Of Brothers, Rings and Forgetting Things
by BML Hillen-Keene
Summary: After Sabin finds Edgar in the Land of Ruin, and the adventure continues on, things might not be how they appear. Sabin tries despretely to get Edgar to remember that they are brothers.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: None_

_A tale of amnesia, and how it effects those nearest and dearest. Set after the world of Balance became the world of Ruin. It should explain itself ok after that… I hope anyway. Please enjoy, and please review._

Gerad watched Sabin move about their shared room, the Martial artist… Prince? King? Well, whatever he was, refused to leave him alone for more than a few minutes. He had almost gotten used to having the other man follow him even if he was just stepping out to relieve himself. It had been like this since Sabin, and the woman, Celes had grabbed him in the engine room of Figaro castle, and immobilised him until his gang of thieves had left, thinking he had been killed by the tentacle monster.

Then had come the wild accusations that he was actually King of Figaro. Him? Gerad Thistle, master thief extraordinaire, a King? It was a riot. But Sabin truly believed he was this Edgar, his twin brother. It had been weeks, and Gerad had simply given up protesting that he wasn't who Sabin thought he was, and thankfully he had managed to get them to call him Gerad. Sabin was the only one who wasn't inclined to use it though.

Gerad hurt for him, he did, after all, he had lost a sister in the past year. He supposed he could understand, if he had found a girl who looked almost exactly like his sister he would probably be loath to admit it wasn't really her.

But if there was one thing Gerad knew for sure, it was that he was no king. Granted his memory from before the world went to ruin was hazy and best left alone thanks to the blow to the head he had taken during the change, Headaches still spread with fiery intensity across the spider web of scars that decorated the left side of his temple, thankfully not really noticeable under his side fringe.

Somehow, he really couldn't begin to imagine how, he had ended up travelling with them, facing monsters, and fighting for something, Sabin continued to tell him he believed in. The only problem there was that Gerad didn't really care about defeating some crazy man. But despite this he found himself still with them.

A flash of silver caught his attention, and always one to be attracted by pretty shiny things, he turned his head to see Sabin, who had seated himself on his bed during Gerad's contemplations, flipping a coin.

"What's that?" he asked.

Sabin caught the coin, and looked at it hard before answering. "It was a coin father had made for Edgar and me. It was one of the two things I managed to keep hold of when he fell."

Gerad blinked in surprise, this was the first time Sabin had not directly referred to him as Edgar. "Fell?" He knew very little of what this group had done before he had ended up as one of them, they never mentioned the day the world changed.

Sabin heaved a long and lonely sigh that tugged at Gerad's heart. "When we were escaping, the floating island, the Airship began to break apart, the side you… he was on went down first. I dived over, I was hoping I could catch him, hoping that we would land together. I caught his hand. He was holding this…" he flipped the coin again. "He always messed with it when he was scared, or worried about me… and then I wasn't holding his hand anymore, and I couldn't see him."

"What else did you keep hold of?" Gerad found himself asking.

Sabin held out his left hand, palm upwards, revealing a jewelled ring on his little finger. Gerad had always just assumed it was a normal gold band. "I keep the jewel on the inside, I don't want to break it when we fight…" he started at it, for a long time, lips twitching into a small smile. "It was our mothers wedding ring. Edgar always had such an obsession with rings, if he saw one he simply had to have it. He kept taking it off mothers hand and wearing it, Father was always so angry about it. When she died he took it off her after they prepared her body. Father never had the heart to say anything to him about it."

Gerad self consciously curled his fingers, looking down at the multitude of rings that adored his own fingers, dozens, all shapes and sizes. How strange it was that he and Sabin's brother shared a fascination of rings. He could understand a little more why Sabin had not wanted to let go of the idea that he was his lost brother.

"Is that why you think I'm him?" he asked, surprising himself, tearing his eyes fro his hands to meet with Sabin's.

"One of the reasons." he shrugged.

Gerad knew was walking on a fine line, but he was curious about what else, aside from his looks, made Sabin believe he was Edgar. "What are the others?"

"You have exactly the same fashion sense, showy, but practical, the colours might be different, but the cape just screams 'Edgar'. The way your hands twitch when your nervous, before you find something to do with them. If I gave you this coin I know you would fidget with it just like Edgar always did. The rings of course, because there's so little chance in you having the same fashion sense and the same fascination with rings, and it's only rings, I've only seen two other accessories, and from what I can gather one belonged to the girl you call your sister, and the other to someone else you felt close to in the past year, whose died."

That was surprisingly accurate, the pendant he wore had belonged to his sister, and the silver hairpin hidden in his hair belonged to a nice girl he had grown friendly with, who had unfortunately died in a rockslide, he thought he might have loved her, maybe even married her if she had lived.

Sabin continued. "The way you speak as well. I can bet that your 'sister' didn't talk the same way. You sound like you've had a proper education, complete with elocution lessons for that little lisp you slip up with when your tired. And lastly, I know you're my brother. Even if there was nothing else, that feeling alone would keep me believing. You're Edgar, I just have to find a way to get you to remember."

Gerad was startled by the pure conviction there. "But what about my sister, and my past with her?" he asked.

Sabin shook his head, "I'm not saying she didn't have a brother, but it wasn't you. Did she ever show you any pictures? Do you remember anything of a life in a small village?"

"You know I can't." Gerad turned his head, just enough so that his left temple was hidden completely from view. "But a bashed in skull will do that to a person." It was true his sister had not shown him pictures, but they weren't rich. "Not everyone can afford portraits painted."

Sabin flinched a bit, his eyes fastened on Gerad's forehead, even though he couldn't see the scars, Gerad felt self conscious over them anyway. None of them had seen them in their entirety, something which Gerad was glad for, it had taken months for the hair on that side to grow back long enough to pull into a tail, held up now by a tattered blue piece of cloth and the hairpin., when his hair was loose you could still see the scars that covered the whole left side of his head.

"I know somewhere inside you believe me." Sabin said, and with a sudden determined look he stood, twisting the ring off his finger and making his way over to stand in front of him. Gerad looked up at him fully, confused when Sabin's hand settled in front of his face, the ring glittering at eye level.

"What are you--?"

"Take it." Sabin said simply.

"But… Why?"

Sabin shrugged easily. "Because it's yours. And I'll end up breaking it if I keep it, and when you finally remember you'll kill me for it."

"Sabin…" Gerad said, voice a whisper. "I'm not your brother."

Sabin's shoulders sank a little, but he smiled still. "Your in there somewhere Edgar," he said softly. "And even if he's not… if by some twist of fate I'm wrong, then I trust you to keep it until he come's back. I'm not joking about the killing part."

Gerad felt his lips lift in a slight smile. "How do you know I won't just sell it, or make off with it. It's pretty expensive after all." he wasn't really sure if he was joking or not.

Sabin actually laughed then, a real laugh, and Gerad felt something tug in his subconscious, but the slight pain that came with it made him close it off. He wondered if this was how his sister had laughed in happier times, she certainly seemed the type.

"The only time that ring will come off your finger is if the 'real' Edgar waltz's back in, or when you exchange it for someone else's… probably Terra's." his blue eyes glittered teasingly. "After all, you have a serious thing for her."

Gerad felt his cheeks heat slightly. He reached out, expecting Sabin to change his mind and pull his hand back. After all, he was giving away something that belonged not only to his brother, but to his mother as well. That was a lot of memories to part with. But his fingers closed round the metal, still warm from Sabin's hand, sliding it easily onto his left ring finger, which had laid empty, it just hadn't felt right to put a ring there. Looking at his adorned fingers he was surprised how comforting it was, like he had a complete set now.

Sabin stepped back, smiling. "Now all we have to do is get you in blue and you could rule Figaro easy."

Gerad snorted and rolled his eyes, flopping back on his own bed. "Yes, I'm sure I would make a wonderful King…" he trailed off, nose scrunching thoughtfully, not noticing Sabin's brief look of sadness at an expression he had seen many times on his brothers face. "Although it would have it's advantages. I'd have all the money I wanted at any rate."

"There you go." Sabin said, agreeing.

Gerad held his left hand up, looking at the ring now resting on his ring finger, the light blue gemstone lightly pulsing in the flickering light of the evening. He cast a quick glance to Sabin, and his heart constricted a little at the absolute sadness there. There had been times over the last few weeks that Gerad had nearly wished he was Sabin's brother. Not because he was a king, or for riches or anything, but because he knew how it felt to have someone torn from you that you loved. And because it wasn't fair that anyone else should suffer it.

_Eh…… Well…… there is no way to adequately describe this, so I'm not going to try. Suffice to say that even I'm not sure if this is Edgar. But, draw your own conclusions anyway._

_Please review, I would really appreciate it._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: still don't own (it would be remade and Edgar would look super hot if it was, and would totally be voiced by the guy who does the voice for Edward in infinite undiscovery... I bet he sounds just perfect when he's not playing angry, brooding characters)_

_Just a follow up to the last little story, with some Locke thrown in._

"I think I'm jealous." Locke said conversationally to Sabin, setting a mug down in front of the distracted martial artist.

"Jealous?" Sabin asked, frowning and looking at his friend.

Locke nodded, and glanced significantly across the room to where Gerad was holding court at a card table. "He makes a better handsome rogue than I do." and he grinned, sitting down.

Sabin took a gulp of the ale in the mug and looked back to his amnesiac brother. He said nothing, because there was nothing he could really say.

Locke sighed into his own mug before setting out to recapture Sabin's attention. Why he had been volunteered for this conversation he didn't know. "You know, you've got to admire him."

"Because he's a thief?" Sabin asked, and it was easy to read his despair. The Edgar he had grow up with was nothing like Gerad.

"Because he's here."

Sabin frowned. "What?" he asked.

Locke gave him a small smile. "He's here. He's not Edgar, at least, not as far as he's concerned," Locke said the last part quickly to avoid Sabin getting indignant. "He could have slipped off whenever he wanted to. I've been watching him, he could do it easily. But he hasn't. He doesn't know why we're doing what we are, but he's still here."

Sabin was silent. He had been fighting with himself over his selfishness for weeks. Everyone else had long since stopped calling Gerad, Edgar, and they all seemed to have accepted that the man was not the comrade they had fought beside for so long. Sometimes, late at night, Sabin would wonder if it might not be easier to just let the man go, let him return to the life he had made for himself, to stop clinging to the hope that his brothers memory might miraculously return.

Locke frowned as Sabin drifted back into the very melancholy thoughts that had started Celes and Cyan prodding him to talk to him. "You gave him the ring." He said. It had been the first thing Locke had noticed, and he'd felt his own sense of loss at the sight of the ring in it's rightful place, but that the man who wore it could not begin to comprehend it's true significance.

"Yes." Sabin replied.

"It's hard you know." Locke said softly. "Watching someone you love live life as if you aren't important anymore." His own thoughts turned to Rachel, and he shook his head as he realised why Celes had been so insistent. "But he's still here Sabin, that's got to count for something. And even of you can't call him brother, maybe you could start learning to call him friend. Maybe all he needs is the time to make his own decision."

Sabin looked at Edgar. Locke couldn't possibly understand. Rachel had only forgotten him, and while Sabin acknowledged that that in itself was painful, love was not the deepest of all bonds. Twins were the deepest, and losing half of your very soul was so indescribable…

Locke sighed. "You're only going to drive him away Sabin. Just be glad that he's here, for whatever reasons he decides." It was all he could do, there was nothing else he could say, nothing else he could do. It was up to Sabin, it always had been.

Locke prayed, as he had every night, that Edgar would return to them, because watching Sabin self destruct was hard enough, but watching Edgar, who had he been himself would be doing his frantic big brother routine, look on in pity and sympathy was even harder.


	3. Chapter 3

Gerad was silent, a shadow hovering on the very edge of the room, his heart beating frantically as he watched Terra and Celes cast healing spell after healing spell, theirs the only one's powerful enough to have any real affect as they waited for Locke to return with the antidote they needed. Magic would not clear this poison.

It would have been him.

Had Sabin not leaped in front of him when he did, it would have been him who'd taken the brunt of the attack, would have this aggressive poison inside him.

He would have been dead.

He'd been distracted, frozen as his brain fought to catch up with what his body was doing. He had been reaching, not for his sword, but for something else… something he had been almost sire he had at his fingertips, something big, heavy, familiar and something that would have cut that dammed creature down in a single swipe. But whatever it was he had been reaching for was not there, and it had made him a liability.

As Locke rushed into the room, holding a vial of antidote out in front of him, everything became a blur, and Gerad was shocked to find tears obscuring his vision. He was further shocked when he blinked them away to find that the room was empty save for himself and Sabin.

He stumbled his way to the chair Terra had been sitting in, and let himself fall into it, trying desperately to make sense of what he was feeling. Maybe he had been around these people too long, he was starting to lose his sense of self. He wiped the remaining tears away and looked at Sabin and sighed.

Time before the world changed was something he had no knowledge of, he had woken to his sister's worried face, and desperate to know who and what he was, he had taken her every word as absolute truth. But the longer he spent in the company of these… no, the longer he spent with Sabin, the more he questioned what he had never before thought to dispute.

"Pro'lly shoulda given it back to you before."

Gerad blinked and frowned when he saw Sabin's eyes open, though unfocused and hazy. "What?" he asked. And then immediately followed it up with. "You should be resting."

"'s broken. Wanted to get it fixed before I gave it back… Shoulda known no one but you could fix it anyway." Sabin's words were slurred and sleepy.

"What are you talking about?" Gerad couldn't stop himself asking.

"In my bag." Sabin said, lifting a hand a mere inch off the bed before dropping it. But Gerad knew where the bag was, he'd seen him store it earlier, before they'd ended up in that dammed fight.

Curious Gerad stood and went to the bag, it was bigger than the packs the others carried. He lifted the flap, and it took only a little digging to unearth the large pieces of what looked like a … chainsaw? His hand curled familiarly around the handle and pulled it out, and when he had the pieces in a row on the floor he felt his stomach sink, and was glad he had taken up a position on the floor, because he might had done something as undignified as collapse had he not.

He knew how to fix it.

He knew exactly how to piece it back together to fix it.

But with that knowledge came nothing… except the sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, Sabin might be telling the truth. He had hoped that one day he past would just rush up to greet him, showing him everything he had forgotten. But even though he knew this chainsaw was familiar, even knew exactly how he would deploy it in future fights, there was no flash or insight into when he had used it before, or what he had started using it to begin with.

It was his though, he knew that for a certainty.

He looked at the bed where Sabin lay for a long moment before he dropped his head into his waiting hands and struggled to make sense of this… He wasn't Sabin's brother… even if it was true. He didn't know how to be his brother, he didn't remember him, didn't know him. They would be strangers who shared blood.

He dropped his hands, and his eyes came to rest, as they did more frequently these days, on the blue gem of the ring Sabin had given to him. "What do I do?" he whispered. "What do I do?"

_Ummm… Sorry, these stories are getting progressively stranger with every one. I hope youenjoyed it anyway._


	4. Chapter 4

Sabin sat, staring at the note, and the ring, becoming more and more devastated each time he read it. The others watched him falling to pieces, and hated that they could do nothing to help. Sabin had not let them see the note, had not given any indication of it's contents, but they could guess what it said.

Gerad was gone; he'd fled in the night, leaving the note and the ring behind him.

They could only assume that he'd had enough, and though the devastation left in his wake was terrible, none of them could find fault with the man, he wasn't Edgar, he didn't have a reason to be with them, they had all had a hand in forcing him to travel with them, trying to make him into someone he wasn't, or at least, wasn't ready to be yet, or anymore.

God it was all so very confusing. Why could things never just be simple? Why could good luck never come their way?

VIVIVIVIVI

Sabin's fighting became increasingly more erratic; he was jumping in front of blows that the others were more than capable of handling, and most of the healing items and spells had to be used on him. He was only just on the right side of suicidal. If it wasn't for his promise to help them take down Kefka they knew he would be dead by now.

It had been three weeks since Gerad had left, and every night Sabin would read the note he had left. No one else had been able to get a look at it. Sabin guarded it like it was the crown jewels of Figaro itself… no, that was wrong, he guarded it as though it were Edgar himself.

They had all tried speaking to him, tried to pry the contents of the letter out of him so that they could help, but he had rebuffed every attempt. He was falling apart and no one could do anything to stop it.

VIVIVIVIVI

Sabin's hand clenched around the already crumpled letter, and looked at the ring on his little finger again, as he had done a million times before. He gazed sightlessly at the empty bed on the other side of the room. He had woken to an empty room, and ever since he had cursed himself for ever mentioning the chainsaw.

But watching his brother freeze as he reached for a weapon that should have been there, but wasn't, had frightened Sabin far more than he could have ever imagined, and he couldn't keep it away from him any longer.

He had taken the chainsaw with him.

He'd left the ring.

Sabin didn't know what to make of it, and the letter itself told him little, but it was a missive from Edgar, in his ridiculously neat handwriting that he remembered most from the detailed drawings of his various 'Tools' Edgar had made in their youth. His gaze drifted to the letter again, and the neat print that threw him back to the days of his fathers disapproving looks as Edgar would pull his papers from his robes and start scribbling madly when he was supposed to be paying attention to how their father ran the kingdom.

Father had always been disapproving of Edgar's projects, it had been Mother that had encouraged him, had encouraged both of them to do the things that interested them.

He never should have left… He should have followed his father wishes and become joint ruler of Figaro with his brother. He shouldn't have wasted so many years in the mountains… He should have been there. Then maybe he could have prevented this… somehow…

Dammit! Why didn't he stay? They could have talked about it. Maybe he could have convinced him not to go…

Sabin's eyes shut against the flood of tears he could not hold back any longer.

_Poor, poor Sabin… and we still don't know what was in that note. Ah well, things just go from bad to worse, don't they?_


	5. Chapter 5

Gerad had never been so angry in all of his life, though he was almost certain that Edgar must have spent a great deal of time in such a state; especially if one Sabin Figaro, martial artist, Prince, King and brother behaved like this during their shared youth. He gone away to clear his head, to sort out what _he_ wanted to do next; to decide if he really truly wanted to make a leap and learn to become the man he had once been.

It had taken longer than he had thought, but then, deciding one's future was difficult. He had been gone a month. He'd then spent a further week locating and catching up with the group, only to find this.

And Gerad was furious.

He ignored the way the others were looking at him, he would explain everything to them later, now he needed to have a talk with Sabin. He waited by the door, leaning against the wall in feigned casualness, watching Celes finish tending the idiots wounds, silent and fuming as she finished up and left, with a concerned glance behind her as the door swung closed.

"You're angry." Sabin said, not even looking up.

Gerad looked at him, he looked defeated and lost. Gerad felt guilty for causing that, he did, but Sabin just didn't seem to understand. It was time to make him understand. "I'm beyond angry." He said simply. "I left to do something that needed to be done, and I come back to find that you've been consistently trying to get yourself killed? I am so far beyond angry there aren't even words."

Sabin did look up then, frowning in surprise, and Gerad could understand that, he had hardly been the most caring of individuals since he had joined up with them.

Gerad straightened and made his way across the room to the chair beside the bed and sat. "I had a lot to think about Sabin. And I couldn't make a decision here, surrounded by everyone. I couldn't make a decision around you. Because I would have made the choice for you and not for me, and that would have made both of us unhappy." He sighed, glad Sabin remained silent, this was difficult enough to say as it was.

"I'm not Edgar." He said softly. "I'm not your brother." He held up a hand to forestall the expected denials and pleadings. "I've forgotten who that is. I've tried to remember, since I realised the truth, I've done nothing but try. I can't remember anything from before I woke up as Gerad Thistle. I can't remember what the world was like before, I can't remember my… our parents, I can't remember why we're fighting in this ridiculous war. And I can't remember you."

He looked at Sabin, never taking his eyes from the other mans face, hating the way hope warred with despair there.

"I had always hoped my memory would just come back, that if something triggered it I would know everything. But it hasn't. I don't know if it ever will. And I had to think about that Sabin. I had to decide if I could stand staying with people who all expect me to be someone else. Because it isn't easy, knowing you can never fill your own shoes. I don't behave in the same way as you Edgar did, I don't say the same things and I can see that everyone notices, and everyone judges. I'm not Edgar… I don't know how to be." He looked away, feeling his own emotions well, ready to pour out.

"Wha—What did you decide?" Sabin asked finally, when the silence had stretched on.

Gerad blinked before squeezing his eyes shut. "I—I—Dammit! I want—I…"

He startled when he felt Sabin's hand on his shoulder, but he didn't fight it when he was pulled into a hug, one he was sure Sabin had been saving up for well over a year now. "Locke told me I should just be glad you were here, that you'd decided to stay at all. I think I understand what he meant now." Gerad said nothing, his voice lost now. "And you've decided to stay haven't you. That's why you came back?"

Gerad nodded slightly.

Sabin pulled back, and Gerad felt bereft of the comfort now. "In that case… Welcome home, or back… or whatever…"

Gerad swallowed. "I don't know… I can't be…"

"You already are." Sabin said. "It hurts that you can't remember, hurts more than you could ever imagine, but you never stopped being my brother just because of that. I always knew you were."

Suddenly Gerad needed to move, and was off the chair in a flash and pacing. "But I'm nothing like your brother… the way you remember him. I'm not a king, I don't know how to be one, I don't know things like when your birthday is, or any of the things we've ever done together. I don't know… I don't even know what age I am!" he exclaimed, and then whirled towards the bed. "Why are you laughing!"

Sabin was bent double on the bed, laughing like a maniac. It took him a moment of hard glaring to get himself back under control. "You don't need to worry, you're a lot more like the old Edgar than you know. I haven't seen you get that worked up since your coronation."

Gerad blinked. He retook his seat. "So… what now?"

Sabin smiled, a little worn, but content. "We go on I suppose."

"But I'm never going to be exactly like the person you remember, unless my memory does miraculously return." Gerad pressed.

"You'd never be exactly the same person, I just refused to realise that before, even if your memory does come back, you still spent over a year as someone else. You were always going to be different. But what's say we start fresh. I'll try not to make you into the brother I remember, if you'll forgive me calling you Edgar. It's just difficult to remember that you don't like it sometimes."

Gerad shrugged. "I've got to get used to it I suppose."

There was silence for a long moment, then Gerad spoke again. "Was Edgar often angry with you?"

Sabin looked at him, surprised. "Only when I did something stupid." He said.

"Like try to kill yourself by jumping in front of people in battle?"

Sabin winched. "You never did like that."

"I'm not surprised." Gerad said dryly. They would have to talk about Sabin's behaviour while he was away, but it could wait, maybe for a time when he felt more in tune with his role as his brother. For now he thought he might like to know a little more about the person he had once been. "So, what age am I?"

_Right, as far as I am concerned, this is THE END of the story. I may, in future days or months return and add little extras to the end, perhaps even one where he does regain his memories. But as this story was about dealing with amnesia and how it affects those around them, I think I've covered that very well. They've come to their own resolution, and in life, there are not always perfect, happy endings. _


	6. Followup 1

"Is everything alright?"

Sabin sighed lightly and turned his head until he could see Cyan, the older man had become a close friend over their time together, he had fond memories of the little makeshift family, he, the knight and little Gau had made. He had never told the man, knowing what had happened to his family, that he had grown to see in him, a little of his own father. He knew Gau revered the man like the father he should have had. But since He'd found that Edgar couldn't remember anything, he had withdrawn himself a lot from the others.

It was only now, since Edgar had realised the truth and they had come to their agreement; that he had noticed the yawning gap that now lay between him and everyone else.

"Perfect." He said, but he knew his tone gave him away in a lie.

Cyan hesitated, and Sabin nearly winched at another reminder of how he had treated those he called friends. He would need to apologise to everyone, especially to little Gau, he couldn't even recall a time in the past two months that he had even seen the boy.

At last Cyan took a seat beside him.

"Your brother hast explained his decision to us."

Sabin nodded, but he was surprised, he had expected Edgar to wait until he was present as well. He had waited nearly a week already. In a way Sabin was glad he had not been there. He was still coming to terms with it himself, hearing it all again would have been too much.

Cyan sighed. "You have worried us these past weeks." He said.

"I worried myself." Sabin admitted.

There was silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It reminded him of evenings spent on the Vedlt waiting for Gau to return from his play.

"If I may." Cyan began, waiting until Sabin had nodded before continuing. "What was written in the missive King Edgar penned you?"

Sabin shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. He had guarded that note jealously, as his last link to Edgar, no one else had ever had the chance to glimpse it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note, the paper crinkled and torn, old before it's time. He handed it to Cyan, who took it with great care, honouring Sabin's attachment to it.

Sabin looked away as he read it, the words were burned into his very soul now. Turned from words of pain and anguish into words of hope.

Cyan was silent for so long that Sabin had to look at him to see what he was thinking.

"Your reaction seems somewhat extreme." Was all he said, and Sabin had to laugh, one that hovered the edge between hollow and hysterical.

"Everyday, every single day I read those words, and he didn't come back. And everyday my world broke just a little bit more. I've been selfish my entire life. I ran away and left Edgar to deal with our kingdom on his own, I've done so many things in my life, and left him to pick up the pieces for me. And suddenly, when he wasn't there to do it anymore, I realised what a terrible brother I've been. I wanted to apologise to him, since I woke up to find him gone I wanted nothing more than to fall to my knees and apologise, and everyday he wasn't there I felt like I'd lost my chance forever." He sighed. "I still haven't done it yet, and he's been back a week."

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You know he would not accept your apology." Cyan said, and Sabin had to smile at his friends perception. "You feel guilt, I can understand, I too feel it. I did not protect my wife and son, nor my king, nor those under my command. But since I have joined you and our companions at arms, I have come to realise that I cannot be held accountable for things over which I have no control. It was not I who put poison in the water, and there was nothing I could have done to stop it."

Sabin looked at him and frowned.

"Sabin, it was not your fault your brother fell. It was not your fault he lost his memories. It was not your fault he joined the returners, and it was not your fault that he became king and you did not. I have heard the story of that, from King Edgars own lips, and it was he who made the decision to use the two headed coin, not you."

"But he only did it because he knew how much I hated the idea of being King. He hated it just as much, more even." Sabin exclaimed.

"No, he did it because he loved you enough to give you want you wanted, and that made him content enough to take his place on the throne. And as to everything else, Emperor Gestal and Kefka are directly responsible for that."

Sabin swallowed.

The hand squeezed his shoulder and Cyan stood. "We will see you inside later? We have missed your company greatly these past months."

Sabin nodded, and accepted the note when Cyan hand it back. He unfolded it to read it once more, and was startled to hear Cyan speak again, from the door back inside.

"It seems to me that King Edgar had already made his decision before he left, he just needed some time to allow his head to catch up to his heart."

Sabin looked back at the words on the page, and shook his head in wonder. Cyan was right.

**_I will return_**

**_Don't break it while I'm gone_**

_Told you I'd end up writing follow-ups, I'm a little too obsessed with this story at the moment I think. Sorry about Cyan, I am only restarting the game, so I haven't got his 'voice' in my head. I just felt that he would be the best to speak to Sabin. I also wanted to share the contents of the letter, and the reasons behind Sabin's self destructive streak. I hope you enjoyed._


	7. Followup 2

_Ok, jut a little Edgar/Terra moment… they are one of the very few heterosexual relationships I like, and it really annoyed me in game when Terra didn't fall for his charms, I think Edgar would be the only one who could look after her propourly. Ah well, nothing actually happens, and it's probably not even a very good hinting at the pairing, but whatever._

Terra had been lost in her own world when she turned the corner and walked straight into Edgar, sending them both sprawling to the floor. She was on her feet first, holding down a hand to him. "I'm sorry Edgar." She said.

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, and she was forcibly reminded of his condition and recoiled from the harshness of his words.

There was silence, and she watched Gerad get to his feet and dust himself off. She found it so difficult sometimes to separate the two of them, because Edgar was still Edgar, even if he was Gerad, it was in his face, his actions, the way he flirted with her. It was all Edgar. But then there was a coarse harshness to him that was Gerad, frustrated and angry. It didn't show often, but it was there.

"I'm sorry." He said at last, closing his eyes briefly before opening them to look at her. "It's just been a bad morning. I should not have taken it out on you."

"It's ok." She said softly. "I was where you are now."

He looked at her, surprised, and she was startled to realise that she had never shared with Gerad her own story. "You suffered from amnesia?" he asked her, confirming her thoughts.

She nodded. "It's not quite the same. No one knew me from before. I only had to learn to be myself, but there were still expectations, one's I had to meet whether I liked it or not." She sighed. "It's hard, especially when all you want to do is move on and just find out who you are now, not be what people want. I imagine it's harder for you."

"Did your memory…"

She knew what he was asking. "It did."

He looked away again. "Sometimes I feel like I'm so close to uncovering the great secret of my past, Sometimes I'm so close I can feel it, but then it's gone again. Things are familiar, but they aren't. Sabin's been telling me of Figaro, and of our youth, and it's just so… so frustrating!" she had never seen him like this, so unrestrained, he was normally so careful to smile, as Gerad and as Edgar.

"It will come." She told him softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

He looked at her despairingly. "How do you know? How can you be so sure. What if I continue life as a half person, no memories, no past, no future!"

Terra looked at him, sympathy in her eyes. She knew exactly how he felt. "I'll tell you what you told me." She said, and he frowned at her, she smiled. "There is no such thing as no future. Everyone has one, and even if you can't see one for yourself, someone else can see one for you; all you have to do is decide which person you want to share a future with. Everything happens for a reason, maybe you needed to forget, maybe you needed a new canvas to start from, to learn new things, and when you're ready, you'll remember." She shook her head. "I didn't understand until I'd regained my memories." She told him. "But I needed to learn to trust humans again, I'd been so badly used by Gestal and Kefka that I would never have trusted any of you. I needed to learn about life, this world, love. I'm still learning."

"I said that?" he asked.

She smiled. "You have your moments, when your not chasing ever skirt you see."

She hoped her words made him feel better, just as they had made her feel better when he had told them to her.

_Bad, but I'm a little rushed!_


End file.
